Not Your Business
by MakeItSwarkle
Summary: Barney is in need of a new secretary. So he's looking for one; and he's finding it in a rather, for the lack of better words, interesting woman. Swarkles BROTP BarneyxRobin AU
1. Prologue: The Problem

_**Not your business**_

* * *

**Proloque: The Problem...**

Summary:

Barney is in need of a new secretary. So he's looking for one; and he's finding it in a rather, for the lack of better words, interesting woman. AU

A/N: _You heard right, new story right here. Office! AU, obviously. Lots and lots of Swarkles, and also Marshall x Lily in here. Multi-chaptered, of course, and I'd say it'll be at least ten chapters. Smut? Perhaps, if people wish for it, but not for a long time, so don't follow just for smut._

* * *

_I don't think this'll end good_, Barney thought.

The idea of his trustworthy and loyal secretary quitting her job just wasn't what he'd call a good idea. Mainly, this was worst case. Just why did she have to go _now_? Honestly, he wasn't fond of many people in his life, but he definitely, honestly had liked Patrice. Not in that romantic way, but more in an 'I can trust you with my life!' way. He doubted he'd find that again any time soon. Good secretaries were hard to find. They either looked insulting to the eye, or they were dumb. Really, really dumb.

While Barney didn't particularly had something against dumb, pretty girls, he couldn't use a secretary like that. He needed a person who was reliable, punctual, strong-headed. Someone who'd eventually be of help. Actually, he didn't even care about the looks of the woman too much. As long as she'd do a good job, she'd be fine in his books. Because, you see, Patrice wasn't such a looker either, but she'd always remain in his heart as the most awesome secretary he'd had so far. And Barney's been working for the GNB for a while now.

Before Patrice, he used to hire the good-looking women under thirty. He took Patrice because he needed someone to cover two weeks before he could arrange job interviews for less, to say it in Barney's words, _clothed_ girls. After half a year of having the satisfactory Patrice as secretary, Barney even tried to make a move on her – you know, despite her looks – but she kindly resented him; it's probably better that way, Barney's aware of that. She was his best – his only – friend. And god knows friendship and sex doesn't mix well. One's usually suffering because of the other. It's like a life rule. (And it totally belonged in the Bro Code. Barney made a mental note to add it soon.)

So, you can imagine the doom upon hearing that Patrice was pregnant. While he was happy for Patrice and her husband, he had to honestly admit that he saw his own little world crashing down on him. Hell – he didn't even know his PIN, he'd be doomed, doomed, _doomed_ without Patrice at his side. How was anyone supposed to – _able to_ – take her place?

That's the question Barney was actually asking himself continuously upon interviewing the women applying for the job. (Yes, he had made this a requirement for his future secretary, why do you ask?) They weren't really, you know, _it_. They wouldn't made him say 'This is what I'm looking for!'. Because that's what was another requirement of his: It had to make 'click'.

But there simply wouldn't be that 'click'. Interviewee one was plainly annoying. Usually, Barney was able to tune the annoying ramblings of a pretty girl out, but since he knew that, for once, who ever he chose would be around for a while, he wanted a girl that he could listen to without getting deaf of dumbness.

The second one was less annoying than the first one. Actually, she seemed to be very silent. And he even considered asking her to work for a week or so in order to see whether she was actually a good candidate – that was before she opened her mouth and all he heard was blah_ blah blah._ Again it wasn't much that she said, but what she said made him wonder what people were told at schools nowadays. Definitely not _being smart_. And that was a subject a secretary should be good in.

Then there was the third one. As old as his granny would be, and while he highly enjoyed the cookies she bake him, he had to tell her that he wouldn't be able to give her the job – since he needed someone who would eventually stay his secretary for the next few years.

And the fourth – and last one – was most frustrating. She was beautiful, smart, knew when to shut up, would be a great secretary. That's what he thought, before she suddenly tried to 'seduce' him. She'd be no good, so he shooed her out of the room. He couldn't really use an affair at work – all he needed was a good professional secretary. (That didn't refrain him from giving the bimbo his mobile number. Just because he wouldn't take her, didn't mean he wouldn't, you know, _take her_.)

All of this, he told Patrice via mobile.

"And that's why you can't leave! There's an annoying one, a frustrating one, an old – and I mean _damn_ old – one and a beauty who I'll definitely _take_ – mobile five, Patrice! – but who I simply can't give the job to..." All of this was said seriously and somewhat desperately, except for the 'mobile five' part, which he said in his usual 'what up' voice.

"Barney, I understand you, but I'm really pregnant. Like, seven months pregnant. I _can't _come back to work." She made a pause in which she thought of something that she thought was brilliant. "Barney, calm yourself, 'kay? I think I've got someone for you."

"I kind of doubt that this someone would be able to put up with you, though." He replied, feeling uneasy – it wasn't like him to be such a whiny bitch about something, and he felt quite unmanly due to this. And a Barney Stinson does never feel 'unmanly'. "But since I've got no choice, shoot me."

"Oh Barney..." Patrice sighed. She understood that this wasn't easy for him. A person like Barney didn't have many friends, she knew that. "Well, I've got the most perfectly perfect person for the job: reliable, punctual, stands her ground, won't try to sleep with you, is definitely not going to annoy you...

It sounded quite like it would go on for a while. Patrice seemed to be really fond of whoever she was talking about. "Yeah, I get it. What's the name?"

"The name's Robin Scherbatsky." Came the cheery reply. "I'm going to arrange a meeting for tomorrow's lunch. You can talk in that darling restaurant just one street away from the GNB."

He knew which one Patrice meant, and he simply agreed. (Not that he had much of a choice, since she ended the call with just that sentence and she didn't give him any time to say 'wait a tick!')

He didn't really think he'd end up interviewing a male to be his secretary, but if Patrice liked this guy – Ronald, Ryan, Robin? – so much, he'd give it a try.

Again, he didn't have much of a choice did he?


	2. Why hello, that was awkward!

**__****Why hello, this was awkward!**

**__****A/N:**_ Just a short random thanks towards Lilli. Thanks for proofreading! Also, check out my tumblr, guys! It's makeitswarkle. tumblr. Com (without the spaces). _

_Enjoy, please._

* * *

Everyone has these sad moments in life. These moments that make them realise how fucked up their life is. For Robin, it's a moment of realising how depressing her life has just _always_ been.

Her life had started horrible already; not even a foetus yet, her father wished for her to be a boy – because her father had always wanted a baby boy, would _only _be able to really love a baby boy. Imagine the disappointment when she was born. A_ girl_ that would never be quite able to live up to his expectations.

Growing up like that was a horrid experience in itself. All she ever wanted was her father's love. In other words, she _had_ to be a boy. She didn't want that, no. But being pushed into that role to be accepted, where was the choice? So, welcome to the childhood of Robin Charles Scherbatsky Jr. – a time of her life Robin preferred to ignore as much as possible.

Anyhow, it was, of course, a very defining period of time. For example, Sir Scratchewan's _miraculous _transformation into a tortoise after falling ill. It was a reason for Robin not to believe in miracles. A good one, too. Or her early disdain for children – partly, she blamed that on her father; another person she blamed a little for it was her sister Katie.

Those probably weren't good things she adopted from her childhood. But there were – kind of – positive sites too. Like, she knew everything about cigars. She _had _to know everything, you see. Because her father loved cigars and she wanted her father to love her so... Yeah, it had been a lame try back then. But sometimes, children are desperate like that. She also had been desperate enough to join a hockey team, just so her father would be proud of her. Which he was, no doubt – until he caught her making out with a fellow team mate. He declared that he 'had no son', and while that was biologically true, Robin did get the message. She felt worthless and she was happy to move in with her mother after that.

_And that's another horrible part of my life,_ Robin thought with a shudder. No way she would let herself think about 'Robin Sparkles' again. These memories were always so full of embarrassment and even a bit of regret. Always a mixture of _What if_s and _You weren't good enough_s.

In any case, Robin's always been a rather pitiful person to wander the planet. Not good enough, always failing, never succeeding. If it wasn't for her best friends, she wouldn't survive, she was sure.

That's why she tended to hold them so close – she wasn't one to have many friends so she was glad to have them: Ted, and Lily.

These two were her very exact reason to accept Patrice's very sudden job interview offer as a secretary. The energetic woman and Robin had been working for the same firm a few years prior; then Patrice got another job, one that had better pay and a nicer boss – or so Patrice had always said. Robin had never minded Patrice's absence, for she earned her promotion due to that. Honestly, the Canadian had forgotten about her ex co-worker. Patrice had been a very nice but also very annoying person, constantly trying to win Robin as a friend; Robin responded rather harshly: it was clear for the woman that she'd never be friends with Patrice. And yet, the offer made her want to hug Patrice (not that Robin would ever admit this wish) because Robin was fired a few months ago and despite her tries she wasn't able to find a job that would suit her.

She was getting _desperate_ for a job.

After all, it was either a job or marriage if she wanted to stay in the United States – and she wasn't about to marry some random guy. (Though Ted had asked whether she'd like to marry him. Not because he still hoped for something to happen to get them together again, but because he really, really didn't want her to leave. Robin's pride had made her decline, of course.)

Robin had almost given up. Canada was a great country and she missed home, obviously. But she wouldn't want to leave her friends behind. Not in that permanent way that going back to Canada more than just implied.

She got a little suspicious however. Just why would Patrice consider her, no less for a job that had originally been hers? Then, Patrice told her about the pregnancy and Robin shook off her doubts. While she knew that there was no doubt a reason Patrice asked _specifically_ her, Robin was sure it was nothing malicious. Patrice wasn't that kind of person. And whatever reason Patrice had, Robin couldn't care less for now. This call meant that there was a chance to get a well-paid job and stay in New York, the city she happened to consider home. About anything else, she could ponder after that job interview.

* * *

_Don't be nervous, bro_, he tried to reassure himself with some pep talk. It wasn't usual for him to be nervous, but other males usually made him a bit uncomfortable. He's always been a smooth-talker, but definitely not around men. Also, he wondered whether he would get along with his maybe-future-sercretary. He realised that he probably wouldn't; mainly because this was the first meeting, the job interview if you will, and that _Robin_ was late already. Not that Barney would go total rage on a person running late, but this was unacceptable: as a secretary you had to be punctual; and also, this was about first impressions. How can you actually be late when meeting a person – perhaps your future boss – for the first freaking time? He'd be unfair and blow off all the steam once the guy _finally _arrived; he was aware that it wasn't nice, but he had an excuse _and_ he had awfully many reasons to hate life lately. 'The Chain Of Screaming' was excuse enough for him. After all, the sacred chain would help him relief some stress.

With these very thoughts, Barney waited a little longer and then some. He must have looked ridiculous, standing there in his suit, marvellous as ever while looking like a lost pup.

He growled a little; there he went through the trouble of booking a table in a restaurant in order to have a relaxed job interview and he was_ being stood-up_, for god's sake!

Then he decided that he might as well go in, take a seat at his table for _two_ and eat his ridiculously expensive dishes because it just wasn't awkward to sit in a restaurant and eat _alone_ while facing an empty chair, okay.

With these thoughts he tried to make himself believe, but he didn't quite succeed. So, this all indeed was ridiculous. Well, there was nothing big he could do about it. And he was hungry. And already here. And, really, he needed a good wine now – or maybe even Scotch whiskey. Who knew?

So, he just went inside once again, this time to claim his table for real and order something that would help him get over his frustration. Of course he could still go out and get some nice _companion_ but he felt far too irritable to even consider. Without a secretary at work, things were horribly busy. He had actually quite liked the idea of maybe finally finding someone – even if his name was Robin and he wasn't a hot chick.

However, his steps came to an abrupt halt; there was someone sitting on his table already. Someone that hadn't been sitting there when he first came in (approximately fifteen minutes before the appointed time) to check whether the table was free already. After checking he went outside to wait for the applicant. Patrice had told him to look for _chocolate brown hair_ and a _stunning figure_ which had definitely confused him – why did Patrice thing he'd recognize a person knowing only these things? He didn't even know for sure if there was such a thing: chocolate brown hair. That sounded a little too artificial, for a hair colour anyway, right?

And, after he stopped looking (half an hour after the appointed time), his table was in use even though he had reserved it? How unprofessional of the restaurant. He decided to ask the person – a woman, he realized – to leave the table (except if she was hot and not waiting for some guy...) so he could have his nice evening after all.

He approached her with that plan settled and went to the chair facing her. He coughed a little in order to have her look up at him, which she did.

_Wow,_ he thought, a slight grin etching to spread itself, _well, she can stay if she wants to!_

"Why hello, there. I'm Barney Stinson and you must be – " He was about to say something cheesy, flirty: an angel sent to _release_ me. A demoness to _devour _me. Maybe even something like 'the woman of my dreams'. You know, something to start a flirt, have a fling and then escape before the sun rises completely. But she gave him no chance to carry the sentence on.

"I am Robin Scherbatsky. And you must be _terribly_ sorry, for you are late, Mister Stinson."

He stared at her dumbfounded for a second or two.

_What._

This, well, uhm. Turns out that it's going to be a _she_ after all. But why hadn't Patrice told him...? He realized that Patrice really hadn't said anything about Robin being a male. He had simply kinda assumed because, mh. Okay, he had just made an assumption here. And, it seems, he had been wrong.

Barney then opened his mouth to explain that he wasn't exactly late, that he was on time; _early_ actually. That he hadn't known who he was looking for. That he could explain and that she shouldn't stare angrily at him like she did.

"You're not male." Was what Barney said instead, wanting to slap himself the next second.

_Smooth, Barney, very smooth._

He froze when he saw her glare. She didn't seem to appreciate the seemingly random statement. It seemed to bother her big deal, so he decided it might be time for a short apology. After all, that was a rather douche bag comment.

"I'm sorry, I mean..." Barney wanted to take this chance to say something complimentary and get on her good side. "You have nice, erm ('_Go Barney, say something nice, innocuous and harmless. She might be your new secretary!)_ nice breasts."

_Damn_. Not smooth, either.

"Oh god, I'm sorry." He then said slowly, taking his seat, "I'm usually not that much of a dick." _Well, not when it concerns my co-workers, anyway. _"Let's just start over. I'm just always a little confused when I face such a beautiful woman."

Not _that _was more like it!

Yet she didn't look impressed at all. However she willed herself to give him a chance. He thought it was because he had made such a smooth move with that last sentence. But honestly. She simply needed the job and _had_ to give him a second chance. Maybe it would make him feel bad enough to give her the job.

"I'm Barney Stinson, pleased to meet you. And let's forget these last five minutes, shall we?"

She contemplated for a second before nodding slowly, warily. "My name is Robin Scherbatsky."

"Alright, Miss... Or is it Misses?" She shot him an annoyed glare. He put up his hands in defence. "Hey, I swear, no unprofessional intention here. I just really don't know because I never saw some kind of CV!"

"Fair enough. It's _Miss._" She nodded then, grabbing a black handbag which had prior rested on the floor, right in front of her feet. A few sheets ofpaper were brought into the light of day. Her CV, he figured when she gave them to him. He took them with a curt nod.

He honestly tried to be professional and just read her CV while she distractedly stared into distance. And he did read a few sentence. But he hadn't lied when he told her she had nice breasts. They were distracting him on a very high level. Not. Awesome.

Or, well, they were, but they were keeping him from reading.

_Worked as head secretary. Good with people. Trustworthy and punctual._

Sounded good enough. These were also the only things he had actually read. Considering these were two pages it was kind of sad, really. He figured it was now time to turn the page so she wouldn't get too suspicious.

He cleared his throat after another minute of 'reading'. Lifting his eyes to meet hers, he asked the only question he could without raising suspicions of never even reading the papers.

"So, Miss Scherbatsky. What makes you thing you are qualified to be my secretary?"

Useless question.

He already knew she was his soon-to-be secretary.


	3. Let's Be Honest

_**Let's be honest...**_

_A/N: Sorry this is so late. It was actually finished a few days ago, but my laptop crashed and when I rebooted and tried to open the doc, all I got was '###############'. Dedicated to all my lovely readers, but especially Lilli. Thanks to everyone who takes the time and reviews – you guys make my day. And also thanks for the follows on tumblr. I love you guys, all of you._

* * *

"Let me tell you one thing about this world; it's a rotten place." Robin let the bunch of papers drop onto her desk with a fed-up groan. Judging by the amount of papers, this would take her whole evening and then some. Usually, secretaries weren't working more than ten hours. With Mister Stinson as her boss, it wasn't all that unusual to end up working at least twelve hours a day, often more than that – and if she didn't do that, she ended up having to work during the weekends.

The pay was just fine; actually, she felt like she earned at least four times as much as the usual secretary would. And yes, it _was_ way more than she earned at her old work (though that place was terribly underpaying anyway and she had no other way to gauge whether she earned a lot now). But still; the times were horrendous. She had to get up around five am just to get to work in time, and then she'd _have_ to stay until six in the evening. And then some, considering that a normal human being never would be able to finish all the papers on time. And when she managed, there'd be another stack waiting for her because her boss forgot to hand her that stuff earlier.

"Oh, Robin, it's only some paper work. You've been here for a while now; and you've had more to do on other days..." Came the sympathetic reply from her co-worker. While Robin usually tried to avoid other people around the business complex, she hadn't been able to avoid Jessica at all. In retrospective, that was a good thing, though. Out of everyone working here, Jessica seemed to be the nicest person. Also, they worked on the same floor, the floor reserved for the personal secretaries of the department heads, which would be Jessica Glitter and Robin herself. She was a little confused as to why they were two secretaries for three department heads (Mister Eriksen, Mister Venkataraghavan and Mister Stinson), but Jessica was fast to explain; actually, there should only be one secretary, but due to Mister Stinson, there were now two – one personally for him and no one else.

_'How fitting,' _Was all Robin thought after that. _'How can this man always make sure he's the focus of attention? Of course he'd be the only one to need a secretary especially for himself when no one freaking else does!'_

But in all honesty, she couldn't imagine doing everything she already did and then even more for two other bosses. It still didn't seem fair to her that she worked as long as Jessica – and Jessica basically did the work for two persons. How could she have the equal amount of work Robin did? Robin came to the conclusion that maybe, Mister Stinson simply was an arse.

You can imagine the lack of enthusiasm she feels when she's on her way to work every morning.

And it's probably not difficult to guess that the Canadian goes out of her way to keep her distance to that man.

The less she had to do with him, the better she was off. That's been her motto throughout the first four months. Well, it used to be – until she finally had enough.

Robin Scherbatsky understood when she had to work overtime. She even understood when she had to do so much more work than every other secretary. But she could not understand why her shit-head of a boss actually thought that she'd do all the things he should just effing sort out himself already. And she was not, I repeat _not_, going to do this.

Not for him, especially.

The resolute woman knew that she had to face him once she saw one of the request papers on her stack. The rest had been the pretty usual stuff but this, _this_, was just too much.

"Mister Stinson." She said, coldly, once she had opened the glass door that lead to his bureau. Unfortunately for him, the two minutes it had taken her to stalk to his office door hadn't been nearly enough to calm the brunette down, so she was downright furious as she had entered the room without knocking. "Just what the heck is _this_ supposed to be?"

Unknowingly, she had disrupted a very important call. For a second, Barney considered hanging up on his client, before he figured that the woman in front of him would still be mad at him if he let her wait two minutes. As far as experience went, Barney was actually pretty certain. Plus, she hadn't bothered to have any contact with him for the past weeks, she could surely stand another few seconds before ranting that he was a disastrous and horrible person, yadda yadda yadda – the stuff women usually said to him, you know.

Of course, Barney had figured the situation out perfectly. His secretary was still furious after a few minutes that it took to talk to his client. When he pressed the red button and lifted his eyes, he saw her standing there, glaring at him, arms crossed in that you're-so-dead manner that was unique to women that had at least a five in 'crazy' on the hot-crazy-scale.

And god, this woman had to be crazy if she faced her boss in an upfront manner like this. She was lucky that he had a thing for women that were a little dominant, or might have shooed her out again. "What's the problem, snookums? The paper doesn't match your outfit, or what?"

He knew he was being an arse, but he honestly didn't care to be on her good side, as people call it. To him, she was just temporarily here. Until Patrice was back – which hopefully would be soon.

Barney wasn't particularly trying to get rid of the Canadian; she was efficient, didn't annoy him and overall did everything he could expect her to do. Didn't even whine about working times and amount of paperwork once. But he didn't really care whether she liked the work or not. She worked for him, he paid. That's how the world works. To want anything else from her but work? – Not realistic. To hope that her boss would treat her like a good friend? – Just as much wishful thinking as is would be the other way round.

Somehow, though, he was glad they weren't close, glad that she stayed away from his as much as humanly possible when you were working for someone. Barney Stinson never liked to get attached, he wouldn't start now. Being attached to Patrice was horrible enough. He didn't have anyone else besides her, except his mother and his older brother. No friends, no girlfriend, no problems.

It just hurts less if you make sure people don't have the right assets to hurt you.

"Oh, don't try to play this down, Mister Stinson. I am _not_ going to send letters to several girlfriends that you want to break up with. That's. Not. My. Job!" Robin said, trying hard to keep calm, trying so hard to remember that this moron was her boss and that she wasn't supposed to go berserk on him; even if he just let her wait a few minutes before even considering sparing her a second glance.

"Well, if I remember correctly, the contract you, Miss Scherbatsky, signed before you began working for me included that you indeed had to perform whatever task I ask you to – as long as it doesn't include any kind of sexual harassment. Which it doesn't because I'm not asking you to strip for me, but because I'm asking you to write a few simple letters."

"And you don't have time to do that yourself? You had the time to sleep with them before, so why not take two minutes to write a letter personally? Or at least a text message?" The Canadian asked, accusingly.

"I'm a busy person, that's why." The blond replied nonchalantly. It was the truth, after all.

And that's when Robin saw red. "Oh? And I am not? You've been dumping all of your work on me, and I don't even care that I only see my friends twice a week tops because of that. But if you're already imposing that shit upon me, than at least spare me when it comes to the sad thing that you dare to call private life!"

Robin didn't like where this was going; it would probably result in her being jobless once again. But, _oh_, how good it felt to finally say it, to finally be able to snap. It was obvious that she was far too gone to stop now, too.

"What's your excuse for that, huh? The work you dump on me just so you don't have to freaking lift a finger in this office – it's just unfair. Even though you are my boss, I can't help but to think that people like you shouldn't inherit high positions at all!"

The fierce woman actually thought that he would say anything, retort in that self-assured way of his. But he didn't. Not even a single word left his lips, he simply stared at her, amazed, shocked, speechless.

"You're disgusting! Not just are you a sad excuse of a boss, but also just a despicable human being. How many girls are on that list; nine, ten? You are dating them all at once? It's just repulsive to be working for that kind of person."

He simply didn't know what to respond, what to add to the conversation. Barney knew why he did what he did, and he'd love to defend himself but he simply couldn't. Never, _never_, had anyone stood up to him like this, never had anyone made him feel so guilty even though he had nothing to criticize himself for. As head of his department, he did what he had to do, even if it meant being unpopular among other workers.

"And I don't even care why Patrice would like you. Or anyone for that matter? What do all of these women see in you as you lied to them? What did you say, eh? You should introduce yourself as what you are, you detestable scumbag. Just go and see how many women would fall for your true self!" She spat the words, her anger only slowly subsiding. He had to admit that her words were true, though. Hell, they all would hate him as much as he hated the ending of Karate Kid.

So, pray tell, _why_ did he want to tell her that he wasn't doing it on purpose, that he didn't have a choice at all? And, even more revolting to his mind, why _the fuck_ would he even care about her opinion on him? He didn't, he shouldn't.

"The kind of existence you lead should make you reflect on your life. Do you have a purpose at all? Besides trying to bang as many bimbos as possible and try to make others despise you?" The secretary mercilessly went on, her rant losing some of its spice as she finally seemed to accept that he wouldn't even bother to answer.

With a simple shrug, Barney decided that he wouldn't.

"...You know, possibilities are high that you don't give a flying fuck. I'm not even sure why I bothered. I'm just disappointed in my life. You only realise how low you stoop when you work for such a shit head."

And she stormed out, leaving Barney to that one single thought.

_Do I actually honestly care about what she thinks about me?_

Suddenly, he knew it was true. So there came the next big question.

_Just why do I care?_


	4. Interpersonal communication

**Interpersonal communication**

* * *

_A/N: A little short, I suppose, but hey. At least the next chapter is almost done, too. And I wanted to separate these two pieces of story because I did like ending it here & also it allows me to make Robin and Barney's talk and the potential begin of this friendship a little longer than a few hundred words._

* * *

"The nerve of it!" Barney said, agitated. "I mean, it's not what you say to your boss, is it?"

Marshall watched slightly confused as Barney strode through the whole room in long measured steps, always from one corner to the other. He looked rather frantic, repeating the motions again and again, while mumbling about 'that blasted secretary'.

"And guess what? She didn't even say sorry yesterday! But this is something she should apologize for. I mean, I could fire her every second!" came another rant, this time however more resigned than angry.

Marshall took this as a sign that the blond might now be able to listen to some good old reasoning, so he motioned for him to sit down on the chair opposite to his own. After Barney grudgingly sat down, Marshall sent him a reassuring smile.

"So, you're mad because she told you off, right?" Marshall inquired, not quite fully comprehending the situation – it could be very difficult to understand his friend (well, more acquaintance, really) when he was rambling like that. He kind of pitied himself for being the Patrice surrogate. That's the general problem when working with people like Barney Stinson; they didn't have much of a private life, so their work also was perceived as a private matter. The thing is, you end up viewing co-workers as 'friends' and storm into their office five minutes before finishing time, telling them about your troubles.

Being department head was a cool job, really. Especially since his department (education) was really interesting. But of course he had to be all co-op with the other two department heads, including Barney. Telling him off now would create a strange atmosphere, so he'd deal with him.

Well, it helped that Marshall enjoyed helping people, in general.

"Yeah, well, she didn't just tell me off, she insulted me!" Barney answered, trying to bring his point across.

"Then, did you deserve it?" The brunet asked, because he wasn't quite ready to take a side without at least asking if maybe she did react correctly – Marshall found Robin to be quite the congenial acquaintance, and he couldn't quite imagine her saying things like that for fun.

"I – excuse me? No, of course I didn't!" Barney exclaimed angrily.

But Marshall had picked up on the slight sign of hesitation in the very beginning of the statement. "That's just lying, isn't it? And now, how about the truth?"

He heaved a sigh before he gave in to the other's demand, "Maybe I did, but only a little."

Upon seeing Marshall's questioning look, Barney continued, "It's a load of work you've gotta do as my secretary, you know that. And I might have asked her to perform extra work – god, Marshall, not _that _kind of extra, I swear! – and then she started yelling at me. I'm the victim here, damn it!"

"But are you, really?"

"Er, yeah, of course."

"So you did something, knowing full well that she might not like it, but you didn't even think about it twice, now did you?" Barney wanted to reply and defend himself, but Marshall had nailed it. He continued as Barney gave no response. "And she yelled profanities at you, and now you say that you want her to apologize because 'It's not something you say to your boss.', right?"

Barney nodded, slowly, waiting for Marshall's conclusion.

"Social etiquette therefore tells you to be mad at her, because you're the employer and she's your employee. But in reality, you don't even mind it, do you? You're only mad because she wouldn't even spare a look at you today, no matter how often you went up to her desk to hand her papers and all."

"What? No, I – "

"I'm probably a little slow sometimes, but not entirely blind, Barney. You're mad at her for not looking at you, but you're really just mad at yourself for making her avoid you at any cost. But rather than admitting that you liked the way she stood up to you like no one else – not even Patrice – ever dared, you just pretend to dislike her for this."

Marshall grinned, satisfied with his analysis. The grin was wiped from his face easily and he frowned, "Aaand of course he's gone claiming I'm not right. God, what's up with this guy?"

* * *

"He doesn't get me at all!" The American mumbled under his breath. Why would he be mad at himself, huh? There's no logical reason anyway! Barney Stinson never doubted himself, ever. Especially since he didn't do anything wrong this time.

Right?

'_Oh, really good, know I'm insecure about that one. Not going to ask for _his_ help again!_'

An irritated sigh escaped his mouth when he finally closed the glass door of his office. Interpersonal communication sure was more of a hassle than it was worth it.

* * *

Robin was on her way to work. It was officially day two after _'the incident'_ and she had to admit that she was somewhat surprised to have not received instant dismissal, yet. Of course that didn't mean that she wasn't expecting it, still. Maybe paperwork made it difficult to kick her out right away? Maybe he had to look for a substitute before she would have to go?

In either way, Robin regretted her harsh words from two days prior. Not because Mister Stinson wouldn't have deserved it; no, she still felt no remorse there. Mainly, she regretted that her pending dismissal would result in going back to Canada.

Now, don't get her wrong – Robin always loved her country of origin to pieces... But the prospect of leaving her only friends behind? It left an abominable flavour on her taste buds. She didn't want to, but what could she do?

Robin shook her head, trying to get these bitter thoughts out of her head. She didn't even want to think negative like this, but he found that she couldn't help it every once in a while. They seemed to haunt her every second she didn't busy herself with work. And it was driving her mad.

Without ostentation, Robin walked down the entrance hall, aiming for the lifts. She felt everyone's gaze and gloating smiles as she slipped into the lift with a decidedly calm composure. What happened merely two days ago of course found its way into office gossip, and everyone just waited for her to lose her post as one of the more important secretaries.

The Canadian only allowed her body to relax for real as she finally stepped into the large room that was her (well, and Jessica's) office. A quick glance at Jessica was all she needed to immediately tense again. Not. Good.

"Good morning, Robin," Her remarkably pale co-worker muttered, before trying and failing to smile encouragingly. "Mister Stinson stormed in here about five minutes ago, basically threw these papers on your desk and left in a hurry, cursing all the while. It might be that... you know."

Oh god, she knew. This might be what she had been waiting for all day long yesterday. Was this her official dismissal? Would this be what might send her back to Canada for good?

Slowly, Robin, made her way over to her desk, sitting down with a hopeless little sigh. Even though she knew that this would happen, she couldn't quite believe how disappointed she felt, anyway.

Her hands trembled a little, so the brunette made sure to inhale and exhale a few times, calming herself. No way in hell would she be afraid of what a moron like him might do!

Then, finally, Robin took a hold of the papers and almost instantly grew motionless with shock. Not even Jessica's worried voice would cure her rigid body and her completely blank mind.

* * *

"Barney. Why are you hiding? In my bureau nonetheless? And how the heck did you get in here, I'm sure I locked the door..." Marshall asked, deciding that he might as well go for first name base since Barney's been calling him 'Marshall' ever since year one that they worked so close to each other. And also, finding someone hiding under your desk usually resulted in such a shock that you wouldn't care about formalities any more.

"I hate you, and Patrice, and that blasted woman." Barney mumbled, shaking his head repeatedly, completely ignoring Marshall's questions.

Marshall inhaled soundly, and then slowly exhaled before trying again. "Hey there, Barney. What's up," He hesitated, for he would have loved to avoid the word. But it might be the word that could make Barney answer. "...bro?"

"Oh Marshall, you've got no clue what big of a mistake just happened!" Barney suddenly explained, jumping out of his hiding place. "All of this moral stuff coming out of your mouth, and all of Patrice's former comments on that Scherbatsky girl and her way of standing up to me... I, I would say it's a knee-jerk reaction and I hate myself and all of you for it!"

"...Just _what_ the hell did you do?"

"Marshall, I think I," Barney gulped audibly, making Marshall tense ever so slightly. Barney looked positively horrified and insecure about whatever it was that he did. "I might have done something... _nice._"

* * *

**Miss R. Scherbatsky,**

**I hereby ask you to report to my bureau after lunch break. **

**The subject which we will discuss is your new, hopefully better suited, contract for I will not accept such occurrences like the one two days ago any further. **

**To achieve a better working atmosphere, a new contract should suffice. **

**If you fail to show up, you will receive a dismissal though.**

**Signed, Mister B. Stinson.**


	5. The Beginning of Something New…?

The Beginning of Something New…?

* * *

_A/N: Is this …? *gasp* A starting friendship? We all know what follows that with these two…! This fanfiction seems to be finally starting off with these two idiots getting closer. I like it, since I have so many ideas for this fanfic, once they're a 'we' rather than a 'you and me'. (I mean, I have the m-rated scene word for word in my head and can't type it out yet – frustrating much?)_

_Enjoy._

* * *

"Robin, seriously, what's up with you today?" Lily inquired, watching her friend stare holes into the bar table. "Robin…?"

It was weird. Ted and Lily had gotten so used to a pissed off Robin that seeing her as something else just seemed completely unreal by now. It wasn't really a happy expression, either, but rather dumbfounded. And she's looked like that for exactly thirty minutes now.

Lily wasn't exactly worried – because god, no one needed to worry about a strong woman like Robin – but above everything else she was confused. And maybe a tad anxious. So did she after all receive that dismissal she had announced two days ago?

"Eh? Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm a little jazzed today. It's been a strange day… But not the bad kind, I think," Then, out of nowhere, a small smile appeared on her face. "Not bad at all…"

Intrigued, Lily leant towards her best friend. She had the feeling this would be something big; and she'd get to know it before Ted, which meant a great deal to her. After all, Robin rarely had time to meet up with her lately and since she lived with Ted, the architect would always know everything about Robin first. It just felt so _good_ to outdo Ted when it came to matters of friendship with Robin.

"Care to share?" Interest obvious in her voice, Lily added puppy eyes to her asking stance. "Or is it something _private_? You can share these stories with me, too, you know? Who was it? Working with you? I bet he's hot. Tell me."

Robin grinned at her friend, "Oh Lily, you've not been laid in a while, and it's getting painfully obvious. Aren't you going to do something about it?"

Lily huffed, "I'm a kindergarten teacher, try finding a guy there that is not married or really weird. But that's beside the point. So, no sexy office romance?"

Shaking her head, honestly amused with the other's behaviour, Robin said, "Not at all. Not with the guys there, believe me."

"No one you fancy? Dirty fantasies? Not even the female co-workers?" Robin again shook her head, making Lily sigh, "What a pity."

"Oh Lily, just get a guy and have some fun. Your sex talk is as weird as could be, seriously. Like always when you're starved off."

"You make me sound so desperate. But you know my rule – never with a guy I don't date." Lily argued, feeling the urge to defend her honour.

"Then get a boyfriend." Robin casually suggested.

Her friend only frowned, "It's not that easy, and you know it. When did you have your last boyfriend? A year ago?"

"Well, I'm busy."

"So am I!"

"But I," The Canadian said with a small smirk, "Have one night stands in between so I don't get _this_ weird. You don't. Difference found, I'd say."

"…and this is also all really off-topic, because _who cares_. The topic is you. What was up today?"

Instead of any verbal answer, Robin searched her bag for something. When she finally found it, she pulled it out and gave it to Lily. A simple sheet of paper.

"_Miss R. Scherbatsky._ Man, that's formal; and for a moment I was thinking of a love letter here…" Robin urged her friend to continue reading a little faster, "_I hereby ask you to report to my bureau after lunch break._ Serious business, really formal. Who's that from?"

"My boss. Now, please continue reading without stopping all the time."

"You always make him sound like a brat, but that seems nice, actually – ouch, alright, aright, I'm reading. _The subject which we will discuss is your new, hopefully better suited, contract for I will not accept such occurrences like the one two days ago any further. To achieve a better working atmosphere, a new contract should suffice._ _If you fail to show up, you will receive a dismissal though.__Signed, Mister B. Stinson. _And this makes you smile into thin air?"

Then, her eyes widened in realization.

"That means you won't receive a dismissal? You just got a new contract and you keep the job?"

Grinning, Robin nodded, "But that's not all. Want to know what my new contract includes?"

Lily nodded eagerly.

* * *

Roughly nine hours before the conservation with Lily, Robin had the important meeting with Mister Stinson.

Part of her wondered if she was just delusional, if the letter was just something her mind conjured, something unreal. Where did his sudden understanding come from, anyway?

Well, you know what they say about gift horses.

She knocked firmly, trying to look as calm and professional as she could when a voice called for her to enter.

The first thing she realised when she entered was how perfectly composed her boss looked – not smug or cocky or high and mighty. Actually, he looked like a perfectly normal human being.

He motioned for her to sit down with a grin; okay, so maybe he still was a little cocky, but still. This was better than his usual demeanour.

"Mister Stinson," She finally greeted, as it seemed that he would not speak up first. "May I incline why exactly you have summoned me here?"

Of course she knew, he did write it after all, but she had to hear it from him to believe it.

"Ah, Miss Scherbatsky," Was his reply, a little startled and just the slightest bit embarrassed at being caught while obviously not paying attention to reality. "You are – obviously – here because we need to make amends concerning your contract of labour. I came to the conclusion that none of us where happy with the current situation."

Amen to that, Robin thought.

"So, what exactly would change?"

"I see that you're beginning to ask the important questions; well, just a few things, really. And I made sure to be very clear about everything, just to be on the safe side this time around."

He pushed a stack of papers towards her, and she skimmed the upper paper and new that this was her new contact – if she was willing to sign it.

"Might as well explain the main things while I'm at it, right?" With a small sigh, he began listing, "What you've been doing for the past weeks included forty hours of work per week, everything else being underpaid overtime work. So I talked to a few people and we came to the conclusion that a regular sixty hours a week would be better – which sounds like a load, but if you do some maths, it's really not. You only work Monday to Friday, meaning that forty hours make you work from 9 am to 5 pm; now sixty mean you start 8 am and you finish 8 pm. If we take into account that we deal with so much highly important work that the overtime you did these last months easily matches this pattern… Well, nothing really changes, but you'll get better pay for it."

That was true. Usual work days for Robin had lasted at least twelve hours if she wanted her weekend free from work.

"As for weekend work, you can gain a total of 10,000$ bonus a year, but in case important matters arise you have to work on a weekend but get to choose free two week days to make up for it. And your wage would be 40$ per hour, which I might add is really good for a secretary."

Robin's eyes widened a fraction. That was a lot of money when working sixty hours a week. Only good knew what the department heads must earn if they can easily pay their secretaries like that.

"Three weeks of vacation in a year and you must not deal with my personal petty problems. However, there's one point I added, after what you told me in your little speech."

Her eyes narrowed a little at that, as if just waiting for a catch in this contract, "And what would that point be?"

He quickly raised both hands in a gesture of mock surrender, "Hey, no need to get hostile. I just realised that you are correct when it comes to my lifestyle. Not that I don't love it to pieces, but… Well, my business partners might not appreciate it."

_And what does that have to do with this?_ Robin wondered, confused.

The question in her eyes was obvious, and so the blond answered with an almost sheepish smile, "Business people like to feel superior, as if they knew exactly how the other thinks and reacts. And they think they can predict others if they can link with them in some kind of way. Awfully lot of these guys have wives, you know, unlike me."

"Wait, you don't want me to pretend I'm your wife, do you?" It was hard to sound unpertubed, so the confusion and disbelief was apparent.

He quickly shook his head and shuddered, "Hell no!"

"Then what's this about?"

"There's some swanky dinner affair thing going on in a few months and Marshall and Kevin keep reminding me that without a plus-one-person I'd be pretty out of line there, as they all show up with someone. And it's just that, I dunno, I figured it's just one eve and… Listen, you don't even have to touch me; you just go there, say hi, eat for free and then go home. No strings attached!" He hated himself for babbling and rambling, so he tried to catch himself, "Listen, just help me out, okay."

"I really – "

"This extra money you receive, this second chance you receive here, I'm doing this to help you, okay, and I'm taking a risk because let's face it; if this thing from two days ago happens again, then I'll be the office idiot, not you. I'm doing this for you, so why can't you at least consider it? It's not even in the contract itself, it just… You know what, never mind," He quickly changed the subject, not liking the way he was being rejected without even saying anything too weird, "We talk about this later. About the contract. Yes or no?"

Robin obviously hesitated a little, making Barney snap at her, "I didn't lie when I said no strings attached! I listed exactly what was in the contract, just in easy terms. Just trust me on this and sign – or don't."

For a moment, Robin could've sworn there was some colour on the other's cheek, as if he was really embarrassed by this whole conversation.

And for a short moment, she also thought she could see a flicker in his eyes, as if he was afraid she'd reject the first genuinely nice gesture he had offered someone in quite a while.

'_What the hell,'_ Robin thought, '_What is the worst that could happen?'_

Her hand grabbed the pen next to the contract form, and she neatly placed her signature where it was necessary.

When she looks up again, she sees blue piercing eyes staring at her, confused.

Confused because of himself, for being unreasonably nice? Or confused because of her, for accepting these nice gestures? Or maybe confused because of the way she accepted this gesture smoothly, without saying or commenting?

Robin honestly didn't know which it was, but the only thing on her mind when she left was that maybe, just maybe, Barney wasn't as bad of a human being as she had first assumed.

The brunette did not even realise how it was all of a sudden not Mister Stinson anymore in her mind, or that dickhead, or anything equal. Instead, her inner voice would dub him Barney, in a soft and fond way that Robin will not recognize as anything else but friendship for a long, long time.


End file.
